Lights in the Darkness
by JustAPlant
Summary: Runner Five is back at Abel Township, safe and sound, but before Sam Yao can relax, he has some demons to face. Maybe talking to a certain runner will help. Set after S1 Episode 9, A Voice In the Dark.


Sam Yao fell back into his chair, shaking with relief. He hadn't been aware of leaping to his feet and knocking his chair over, or how loud he had shouted into the microphone. His heart was beating furiously in his chest, as though he had been the one chased by a pack of starving zombies all night long. Below, the sounds of chaos and confusion were echoing throughout the grounds. Soldiers, medics, runners, and civilians alike were all rushing to the gates, each staring with the same open-mouthed look of disbelief. The runner was hunched over on a chair, panting, red-faced, and ragged, but was amazingly and blissfully _alive. _

Things like this didn't happen. Nobody could dodge a military assault _and _hordes of zombs, loose contact with their operator, and make it back home just before curfew. It wasn't possible. That was why Sam had given up hope. Even as he had spoken the hours away and had spilled every detail of his personal life into the microphone, (a decision which he regretted in hindsight) Sam had been convinced deep down that his runner wasn't coming back to Abel. The odds were impossible. No runner he had ever seen in the field could have done it. Yet Runner Five had.

It occurred to Sam that he, too, should go and congratulate his runner, but found he was unable to leave his chair. It felt as though the joints in his knees had melted into jelly, so he contented himself to watching the action from the coms window instead. Maxine was rushing through the crowd herself now, elbowing people aside, typical of a doctor rushing to find her patient. Her patient, however, was resting calmly, accepting a water bottle from a nearby guard, whose jaw muscles didn't appear to be functioning properly. It only took Maxine a minute to assess the runner's condition before she backed away, shaking her head in astonishment.

Five, who was already back to breathing normally, casually pulled off the supply backpack and tipped it upside down. Supplies spilled onto the ground. Sam couldn't help but giggle. Of course Five would go out of the way to pick up some med kits while facing certain death. What else would you do? Run screaming in terror? Of course not. Had Five even reacted when the zombie apocalypse started? He could picture the runner casually browsing in the grocery store as riots and hordes paraded past the windows. Sam couldn't stop laughing now. He was cracking up. But, as he reflected through his tears of laughter, maybe that was okay. After all, he _had _been up all night, gone through a lot of stress, and it was the end of the world. Everybody was going mad anyway. Maybe he'd earned the right to be happy for once.

* * *

Sam stayed at his desk a long time. He was exhausted, but he felt too happy to go to sleep. Triumphs like this had to be savored. Tomorrow he would wake up and he would have to go back to the world where almost everything went wrong. This was something he had to relish while he still could. There was also a distinct possibility he might collapse if he stood up. He felt dizzy on euphoria. Perhaps that was why he didn't notice that he was being approached.

"Sam?"

Sam whipped his head around. It was Runner Five. The runner had changed into resting clothes and had damp hair. Probably had just come from the showers. How long had he been sitting here? "Five? What are you doing up? If anybody's earned the right to rest, it's you."

"So have you." Sam blinked. As far as he was concerned, he had sat in a chair and shown terrible moral support. Not particularly helpful. "I saw the lights were still on. Thought you might be up. Can I join you?"

"Yeah…. yeah, of course you can," Sam fumbled. This was weird. He couldn't recollect an occasion where Five had ever sought him out to have a conversation, or anybody else for that matter. Five didn't seem the type to wax philosophical.

The runner sat down in the chair that was usually reserved for Janine. There was a moment of silence. Five's facial expressions had always been tricky to read, but Sam felt oddly certain that the runner was looking at him with concern. Suddenly, he found he had to fill the silence.

"It's weird, do you know what I mean? Obviously it's fantastic you made it back, but… I still can't wrap my head around this. The chances of getting back are, like…. Miniscule, you know? I suppose it's a risk every time you have to go on any mission. Or even when you don't. I guess just when you walk outside you're technically at risk of tripping over a rock and breaking your neck, so when it comes down to it you're taking a risk no matter what… Yet when you see other people in danger and you don't think there's even a small chance, and you start remembering all those other people who didn't…" Faces flooded through Sam's mind. He struggled to push them aside. "It's…. spooky," he finished, lamely. He looked at his knees. So much for congratulating Five. He had already managed to make the conversation gloomy. _Well done, Sam_.

"I actually think about that all the time." Sam looked up. Five was still looking at him, wearing half a smile.

"Really?"

The runner nodded. "You're right. Everybody's at risk during the apocalypse. No matter who you are, or what you're doing, there's quite a good chance you'll be killed every day, and not even by zombies, necessarily. So really, you're in the line of fire whether you put yourself there willingly or not." Five leaned back in the chair, eyes fixed on the blank scanner monitor. "Thinking like that at least makes going out in the field a little easier."

Sam snorted derisively. "I wouldn't say the risk is exactly the same for everyone though. I mean, look at me. I get to stay snug in here surrounded by walls and lots of people with guns…. You aren't so lucky…." He trailed off. Today his runner had gotten extremely lucky. Tomorrow, it could be a whole different story. Five was a great runner, no doubt, but if he didn't pull it together… He'd been so close to letting another one go. Losing another Five. _No_, Sam thought fiercely,_ don't think like that_. He couldn't let it happen again. Never again. _Never _again. To _anyone_.

The apology was tumbling out before he could stop it. "Five, I am so, so sorry for what happened today. I know Janine was the reason you were there, and of course it was a dangerous plan and I had to listen to her, but I really, really let you down today. It's my job to be your eyes out there and keep you safe. I couldn't do that today, but I swear I'll do what I can to see it won't happen again." He knew full well that that was an empty promise. It wasn't even the first time he'd made it.

Five's head jerked around, and Sam was almost scared of the expression on the runner's face. Five was the definition of stoic calm, no matter what the scenario was. But now, Runner Five was staring at him with something akin to shock. He waited for Five to say something, but the runner just looked at him. It made Sam feel vaguely anxious. Maybe he ought to explain himself further.

"I don't blame you if you're angry with me, Five. It's pretty clear that I'm not a professional. You want an expert at saving people, wait until the Major comes back. But I'm not that good at protecting people. I mean, granted, the zombie apocalypse is a really difficult place to try and defend others but if anything goes wrong and I make a mistake…" Sam trailed off again has the faces came to mind again. All the dead runners he couldn't save, his parents, Alice… His vision was slowly turning blurry. He looked at his knees again. He couldn't do this now, not with Five here.

There was a sudden scratch of metal on floor. Five had dragged Janine's chair until it was right next to Sam's. A hand gently rested on the arm of Sam's chair. "Sam, what happened today wasn't your fault. You're the reason I'm here now. You saved my life." Five's tone was low and gentle. "I was hoping I would get the chance to thank you tonight. That's why I came up."

Reluctantly, Sam looked up at his runner. There was a kind, genuine smile on Five's face. Part of him wanted to apologize more, and part of him wanted to thank the runner for having any faith in him at all, but he wasn't sure he could speak right now.

"I wouldn't have known what to do or where to go after the helicopter crash, or on all those other missions, and especially tonight. You saved me, Sam. When you're running out there alone, you need a voice in your ear to bring you home. That's what you do. You guided me to Abel. You're the one that brings me home." Five spoke so simply, so lightly. The runner couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to be on the receiving end of those words. Sam was speechless. His brain was blank, his tongue numb. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. His vision was blurring again. _This is just not my day_, Sam thought, and then Five was hugging him.

All Sam could do was sit as though he were a statue. Five had an immensely strong grip, even while hugging. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a hug, but he wouldn't have ever expected to receive one from Runner Five, of all people.

_Five._ Sam didn't have a good track record with that number. He'd lost three spectacular people who had run with that number, and he would always regret it. He didn't know what exactly had made him pass on the number to a complete stranger. It had been too familiar, seeing that distant figure running into the hospital where they'd lost Alice, but it had been so soon after the incident. It nearly caused Sam physical pain to utter the phrase "new Runner Five."

And yet… it was meant to be, somehow. Sam knew that he had warmed up to Runner Five unnaturally quickly. He had trusted Five before he had even been able to capture the runner's image on camera. Over all the other runners at Abel, Five had won Sam over without even saying a word. Perhaps a lot of it had to do with that number. Even though he knew Five's real name, he never used it. Every time he gave the runner a command, he pictured giving the same order to the previous Fives. It had troubled him for a while now. He didn't want to look at Runner Five and only see ghosts, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't fair, but it was unavoidable.

Unavoidable until now. Five wasn't any old number. Five was brilliant. Five was a survivor, who had survived the impossible tonight. Five was here, with Sam, holding him so tightly he thought he might suffocate. Five was a good person, a light in a world where most lights had gone out. And if Five hadn't been lucky enough to get away tonight, then Sam never would have known, all because he couldn't see past the number. The others were long gone, but this Runner Five was alive.

Gritting his teeth, Sam wrapped his arms around Five, reciprocating the hug. As he did so, Sam Yao made a vow to himself. He wouldn't let Runner Five die. _I don't care what I have to do, but I will keep Five out of danger. _Abel Township would never have a fifth Runner Five. "Thanks, Five," he whispered hoarsely. They stayed there for a minute or so, refusing to let go of each other. All the while, Sam tried as hard as he could to reassure Five without speaking. He focused with all his mental energy, as though sending telepathic waves. _I won't ever let them take you, Five. I swear. _

At last, Five's grip slackened. They both let go. Sam fell back into the depths of his chair, exhaling deeply. "You did hear my tip about the signal beacon then. How much, uh, how much of my babbling did you hear exactly?"

Five gave him a sad little smile. "Just about all of it, I think." Sam nodded. He'd suspected as much. That was probably a good part of the reason that Five had come to check on him. "If it makes you feel better, I do think we have some kind of "simpatico," as you put it."

Sam chuckled weakly. "That's what you choose to make fun of me for? You should have really targeted my stupid talk about ice cream rolls."

"That wasn't stupid! And I wasn't trying to make fun! I was being serious."

"Right."

"Really! I've never even had an ice cream roll. What you described sounded amazing though."

Sam groaned agonizingly. "Five, you have missed out on one of the most beautiful things you could experience in life. I'm sorry for your loss. They were completely amazing."

"I miss ice cream so much," Five lamented. "If I'd known that there was only so much time to eat ice cream, I would have eaten way more! I should have stockpiled some when the outbreak started."

"That reminds me," Sam said, suddenly remembering earlier, "What did you do when everything was first falling apart anyway? I saw you went out of your way to collect supplies while you were out tonight, and I thought it was hilarious. I mean you knew your life was at risk and zombs chased you the entire way, but you still went out of your way to pick up a few sports bras! You probably just ignored the apocalypse entirely in the beginning. Wouldn't let anything stop you, would you?"

Five smiled wistfully. "I wish I could say that I did. No, I was just as panicky and terrified as everybody else. Sorry to disappoint."

Sam's laughter died in his throat. He'd never heard Five talk about life from before. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. "Sorry… that was a bit tactless. You don't have to talk about it."

"I know I don't," said Five, "It's fine. Don't apologize." But the runner went quiet. Sam's heart sank. Five's face was far too composed, almost blank. That was how Five looked when facing zombies. Was this why Five never talked in the field? How much was his runner suppressing? He knew what it was like to bottle emotions to do his job properly, but he couldn't imagine what it was like for Five.

"I don't know what happened to anybody," murmured Five. Sam opened his mouth, ready to tell Five that it was alright, but Five cut him off. "No, you… you told me about yourself. Besides, there's not much to tell. I don't know what happened to _anybody_. You know that I'm not from around here. Well, I was on my own when the outbreak got going, and I couldn't get ahold of anybody. Not my family or any friends. Couldn't make it to them on foot either. I _tried_, but there were so many people panicking and zombies and fires… and then the military found me first…"

"Oh…I'm… I'm sorry, Five. I know how hard that is. " Sam meant it. He had wasted many a hour debating on the fate of his sister, as well as many others, but to not know the fates of anybody you loved…

"It's alright," said Five bracingly. "At least I have room to be optimistic. I like to imagine they're all alive somewhere." _Very optimistic_, thought Sam. But he didn't say so out loud. "There's not much to share about my life beforehand either. Nothing you wouldn't have heard from anybody else, anyway. Honestly, it's only after the world started falling apart that I found I had something to do, a way that I could be useful to other people. Too bad I figured it out at the expense of the world, yeah?"

Sam smiled bitterly. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Oh yeah, you mentioned earlier. I think you make a better radio operator anyway. Just like how I was meant to be runner, I guess."

"We make a good team, I think," grinned Sam. "We were built for the apocalypse and we didn't even know it. You're the brawn and the bravery, and I'm the brain, wit, charm, and good looks of the operation." Five snorted sarcastically. "What? Are you saying I'm not as stunningly gorgeous as I think I am?"

"So are we official buddies now?" asked Five, changing the subject abruptly. "We've been chatting long enough for it to count, right?"

"Yeah, I guess we are," said Sam, smirking. "It's a bit surprising, honestly."

"Why?"

"Well you aren't exactly known around here for your conversational skills."

Five actually laughed. "Surprise! I can talk! No, talking isn't a problem for me. Don't be too impressed. Knowing when to keep quiet is a much better talent."

* * *

The pair chattered blissfully for a while longer, but when Sam failed to suppress a rather large yawn, Five stood up. "You're exhausted. I'm exhausted. We both need some sleep."

Sam gave a drawn out sigh. "That is something I can agree with. You should have gone to bed ages ago. Here, you go on ahead, I still have a report to fill out for Janine."

Five stretched and started for the door. "Suit yourself. Maybe Janine will let me sleep in tomorrow, considering I nearly died today on her mission."

"I think you're giving her a little too much credit," chuckled Sam. "Maybe I'll ask her tomorrow on your behalf and she'll finally kick me out to join the zombs. G'night Five. Get some rest. We'll need you out there soon, I'm sure."

Five grinned at him. "Better busy than dead I suppose. Good night, Sam."

As the runner turned and left the room, Sam couldn't help but smile to himself. Wait until he told Jack and Eugene tomorrow that he had gotten Runner Five to _talk_. He hastily scrawled a haphazard report for Janine, knowing he'd get a telling-off in the morning for lack of organization, but what was she really expecting of him anyway? As he finally put down his pen, Sam found himself looking out the window again, into the night. Somewhere out there was a mass of ravenous zombies who would never stop hunting; no matter how many people they ate. But tonight, they would go hungry.

"No Runner Five on your menu tonight," growled Sam. Satisfied, he stood and walked out of his office, flicking the lights off behind him.


End file.
